I'll Be Your Mirror
by jowx97
Summary: Set post-season 3, Marc is feeling pretty bleak until Daniel's new assistant arrives and makes him see everything differently. But just how much will she change?
1. Prologue

_I'll be your mirror _

_Reflect what you are, in case you don't know  
I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset  
The light on your door to show that you're home_

When you think the night has seen your mind  
That inside you're twisted and unkind  
Let me stand to show that you are blind  
Please put down your hands  
'Cause I see you

I find it hard to believe you don't know  
The beauty that you are  
But if you don't let me be your eyes  
A hand in your darkness, so you won't be afraid

When you think the night has seen your mind  
That inside you're twisted and unkind  
Let me stand to show that you are blind  
Please put down your hands  
'Cause I see you 

_- The Velvet Underground & Nico_


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi, I've never ever written for UB before but I felt a real need to write this story, especially when I saw the lack of Marc-centric stories on here! Sorry in advance if it's not great. Anyway, I'll warn you now that updates may not be massively frequent but ultimately I'm probably aiming for this to be like 3-4 parts maximum. Suggestions, feedback, and hate-mail are all accepted - just press the little 'review' button at the bottom.**

**This is set post-season 3, bearing in mind season 4 has not started here in the UK yet so I have no idea what actually happens - this is therefore AU, although it will probably contain spoilers for seasons 1-3, especially 3.**

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"No offence, Betty, but that outfit is way fugs. Even for you", Amanda smirked somewhat maliciously, greeting Mode's newest editor as she walked through reception.

"Look, Amanda; I'm sorry I got the job over Marc but that doesn't mean--"

"Suarez, don't think for one second that that insult had anything to do with the woeful mistake of your promotion." A smug Marc St. James had now popped up next to Amanda, with a very insincere smile on his face. "That outfit alone stands in the stakes of sheer hideousness."

Betty rolled her eyes and hoped it didn't show that she was upset as she stalked past the pair to her new office. Not only did she hate conflict, but she had spent a long time that morning deciding on her bizarre orange and green clothing combination, and despite Justin's protests she thought it looked pretty good.

Marc soon grew weary of sniggering at the girl who he secretly knew had deserved the job as much as he did (though he would never admit it), and as soon as she was out of his immediate sight he slumped onto the desk and sighed.

"Mandy, are we bad people?"

Amanda scoffed as she picked up a ringing phone, only to immediately hang it up. "Duh."

Marc scowled, but before he could continue the conversation, Betty's ex-boyfriend strolled up to the front desk looking somewhat uneasy in his new occupation, but nonetheless authoritative.

"Hey guys, can I ask one of you two for a favour?" His fingers drummed against the white desk slightly awkwardly as he spoke.

Biting down provocatively on a pen, Amanda gave him her best seductive look as she whispered, "Yours or mine, big boy?"

Matt blinked, and choosing to ignore the somewhat overbearing blonde turned to Marc instead, eyebrows arching upwards hopefully.

Groaning Marc nodded his head, and as he absently smoothed down his purple blazer with one hand, he drawled, "Go on then", motioning with the other hand for Matt to continue.

"Daniel's new assistant gets here today--"

"But--", began both Marc and Amanda simultaneously.

Matt rolled his eyes, "I know he doesn't get back 'til next week, but we decided it'd be good for her to learn the ropes, make sure she's comfortable about where everything is and exactly what it's like here, rather than putting her straight in at the deep end next week. So when she gets here, could you show her round? And, well, be nice?"

Amanda jumped up and down, gleefully clapping, "We get a new Betty to play with? Ooh, can we keep her?"

Biting his lip worriedly Matt continued, "Er, it's probably best you stay behind the desk, Amanda. Marc can show her around." He looked once again at the flamboyantly-dressed brunette, while Amanda pouted. "Is that okay?"

"Eugh, fine, whatever. As long as she doesn't think we're friends or something after this whole tour deal is over then it's cool." He glanced around, with an expression that belied no real spark of interest. "So when does Betty numero dos get here, anyway?"

Matt glanced at his watch, "Should be any minute now. I think her name's Nicole, or something like that. Anyway, I gotta go prepare for a meeting, so I'll leave you to it." He gave the pair behind the counter one final pleading look, "Please be nice to her."

Waving impatiently, Marc spoke in a bored voice, "Bye, Matt."

As soon as Matt had left, Amanda stopped making bedroom eyes and looked down sadly at her friend. "Marc, I know you're sad about the whole job thing but it's not worth getting this down about it. Besides, there's fresh meat to play with."

"I know, Mandy. It's just I've been working so hard, for so long, but I'm still playing office dogsbody. Willie throws a ball and I go running after it. I mean, I'm taking orders from Betty's cast-offs now – "yeah, Matt! Sure I'll show round the new girl! Anything else you want? My dignity, maybe?" Eugh, I mean the way things are going I'll probably watch this new kid get promoted while I stay an assistant forever."

"Aww, Marc – you know that's not true. I know you'll get a promotion soon, you're so-"

"Betty, if I wanted your opinion I would have asked." He turned and glared at the newly-returned Betty, "And even then I probably would have realised that your opinions on anything mean nothing to me."

"I know you don't mean all of this", Betty began, closing her eyes in frustration.

"Oh, he does", interjected Amanda.

Betty took a deep breath. "Look, I know you don't really want to guide round the new girl and I figured since she's my replacement I'd be more--"

"Oh, this is too much!" Exclaimed the melodramatic male, "So now you think you're more _qualified_ to give a tour of Mode than I am?!"

"That's not what I meant, Marc," groaned Betty, fully aware she should have expected this kind of reaction.

And for a moment Marc felt genuinely sorry because he was aware that his anger wasn't directed at Betty – not really. It was at Mode, at Wilhelmina, and, most of all, at himself. He'd had an opportunity elsewhere and he'd let himself get too attached and sucked in to Wilhelmina's lies, again. And sure, he'd probably get promoted soon – that much he knew. But his dream had literally been right in front of him and it had been ripped away. The same had happened to Betty with the New York Review, but much as he sometimes hated himself for being so self-centred, ultimately he cared less about Betty's situation and more about his own. She'd taken the job that was meant to be his, a job she didn't even want that much; it was clear from one glance alone that the girl had no interest in fashion. But now both of the jobs he could have had - at Mode, or at Vogue - were gone because of Betty, because of Wilhelmina; but mainly because of himself. He knew he was probably hurting Betty by being so cold towards her, and he knew she was only trying to help, but he couldn't help being angry with someone.

He took a breath, and hoped she wasn't too upset by his next words, but hell – he had a reputation to keep up. "I mean what would your tour entail anyway?" He put on a high-pitched, slightly Hispanic accent, ""If you want to be like me all you need to know is this is the cafeteria"?" He spoke over Betty's attempts to interrupt, returning to his normal voice, "No, I think I'll do the job I was given and tour this girl around. Unless the last job you stole from me wasn't quite enough?"

"Marc, that isn't fair! You don't even want to take this girl around, and I _do_! I just think--"

"Betty, Betty, Betty – I thought we already covered the whole me-not-caring-about-what- you-think-bit?"

Amanda snickered, "Yeah, Betty; go and have your whine-time somewhere else."

"Marc, please!"

Groaning, the waif-like man finally gave in, dramatically putting his head in his hands. "Anything to make you stop talking to me. Fine, you can do it."

Grinning, Betty was about to thank him when she noticed someone emerging from the left. "Oh no", she whispered under her breath, her face now filled with horror. Marc and Amanda followed her gaze in apprehension and excitement.

The new girl was walking in, wearing weirder clothes than even Betty would dare to try – a cropped, grey woollen jacket with angular shoulder pads, lots of black and gold necklaces haphazardly strewn round her neck, a poofy black skirt and royal blue tights with white lace ankle socks over them, her feet encased in a pair of black heels. Her hair, which was dark and wavy, was piled on top of her head in a way that suggested not a lot of effort had gone into it, while her eyebrows were surprisingly full. She was fairly tall, skinny and presumably of southern Asian origin judging by her tanned skin. Personally, Betty loved the look even if she thought it was a little odd, but she knew what Marc and Amanda could be like.

"Oh my God", spoke Amanda first, her jaw dropping open slightly.

"Amanda, don't--" began Betty, suddenly reminded of her own first day.

Ignoring Betty, Amanda stepped forward to get a better look of the new girl's clothes, particularly her jacket. There was an expression of shock plastered on the blonde girl's face as she asked, "Is that a 1980's D&G?!"

The girl smiled shyly, looking down at the floor slightly, "Yeah; Fall '86. My friend works at a vintage store back in London and she always hooks me up."

"That is so awesome; I love vintage!", whispered Amanda, still in awe, "We should totally hang-out. Are you busy now? 'Cos it's not like I'm actually working."

Betty tried to assess what made the girl's outfit cool in comparison to her own, while the new employee replied, "Sounds amazing, but I'm meant to be starting my new job today so I've got some paperwork to fill-out later", she said, making it very clear from her tone that she'd rather do anything than fill-out paperwork. "But first I was told someone was gonna show me around?"

"Sur--", began Amanda, while Betty too began to step forwards, mentally preparing a speech about how difficult she knew first days could be, but how she hoped her joining Mode would be as easy as possible, but before either of them managed it, they were both stunned to see that Marc, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke-up with a thoughtful smile playing round his lips and a renewed sparkle in his eyes.

"And I'll be the one taking you around, uh – Nicole, is it?"

Laughing and looking a bit embarrassed she shook her head; "It's Nico. My parents were big fans of the Velvet Underground, so they decided to torment me by naming me after the eponymous Velvet Underground &--"

"Nico", completed Marc, nodding in understanding much to Betty and Amanda's surprise. Marc knew about music that wasn't Lady Gaga? "My ex--, er, was a fan; had all their albums. I even watched Lou Reed in Berlin."

"Much as I hate to be a stereotype of my name, I am a little bit in love with Lou Reed," Nico admitted, smiling.

Laughing with her, Marc quickly ran his hand through his curls before he led her off on their tour, with Amanda and Betty staring after him in shock. Betty was still a little bit in disbelief that they'd sincerely liked her outfit, while Amanda was kind of hurt Marc had dropped her to go tour Nico around.

Marc, meanwhile, was very conscious that his palms were inexplicably clammy, his stomach felt all buzzy and he could hear his heart beating like it was a drum on a loop, trapped in his head. What was also weird was that for some reason he hadn't quite specified to her that his ex was an ex-boyfriend. He knew he was babbling at her – more so than he normally did – and once or twice he caught himself just staring appreciatively at her when she wasn't looking before he snapped himself out of it. What the hell was going on? Sure it had been a while, but he was pretty sure he was still firmly in camp…well, camp pretty much summed him up really. So why did he suddenly feel like a teenage, heterosexual boy now he was around Nico?

As soon as she'd walked in he'd had a sharp but soft intake of breath, and it was like one of those cheesy movies where things start going into slow-motion and for a moment everything else stops mattering. She was clearly stunning, and her clothes oozed style and confidence. But he knew he was just being stupid, that he probably just thought she was attractive – he reasoned that straight girls could pick out other girls they found good-looking and it didn't have to mean anything, and so this was pretty much the same thing.

As he showed her around he discovered her to be funny, and - surprisingly, considering this was the fashion world - sincerely nice. She seemed amused by his nonsensical ramblings and appeared to be impressed with his knowledge of the magazine, but not in such a way that she came-off as suspicious or insincere. Turned out she was born and brought up in New York before moving to London for college and her career - she'd worked in the Vogue London office. After two years there she'd been ready to move-up the ladder but there were no positions there, and so here she was; back in her home city. He almost found himself pouring out his story to her but decided now wasn't the time. Something he was impressed by particularly was that, although a couple years younger than him, she had strong ambitions like Marc, but, unlike Betty, he could see she wasn't entirely without ruthlessness, and that made her kind of sexy.

Sexy?! This was all getting too much for him, and he quickly eyed-up one of the male interns and decided he was definitely still attracted to men. Yup, the intern was in the Efron-stakes of hotness. This Nico thing was just some weird reaction to meeting someone new and beautiful while in the middle of a very bleak point in his life. Like desperation, but more chic.

...That had to be it.


End file.
